Demyx's Bad Day
by becoafamu
Summary: Organization XIII silliness. Oneshot. No pairings. Who exactly wrote that note for Demyx, and why?


SELF-INDULGENT AUTHOR NOTES

Summary: Organization XIII silliness. How, exactly, did Demyx get that note telling him to beat up Sora? And why is he convinced that they've got the wrong guy (I know in the bonus Org XIII scenes from Final Mix, we see Demyx say he's not very good at hands-on work or whatever. But I like mine better. :) )

I wanted to write a story in Demyx's POV, sooo, here it is.

* * *

It all started, as crap that sucks often does, with Vexen. Well, no. It started earlier than that.

Demyx had been brought into Organization XIII because of his, how shall we say, unique abilities. In his past life, he had been blessed with the ability to manipulate water. No force in nature was as powerful as water. Given time, water could burn canyons, melt continents, wash life away. He was welcomed to the Organization with open arms. Until one teeny tiny itsy bitsy hiccup had entered into the plan.

Demyx didn't like to kill.

Now, don't get me wrong- Organization XIII did a lot more than run out slaughtering folks willy-nilly. But in an environment where the other members fought each other to the death for fun (that was how they weeded out the riff raff), Demyx didn't quite fit in. At first he was sent out solo on dangerous missions, but as his reluctance to strike the finishing blow became apparent, his assignments became less and less important until finally he was little more than an errand boy for R&D. Combine that with the repeated lectures from his superiors about how no, he did not have feelings, and this squeamishness was made up, and Demyx wasn't feeling too hot about himself.

Which meant that he didn't really care all that much that he got the wrong acid for Vexen. Acid is acid, right? It all burns the same.

"You IDIOT. You STUPID, INCOMPETENT, MORON." Ok, so he flinched a little.

"You asked for acid. I brought you acid."

"I asked for SULFURIC ACID. You brought me HYDROCHLORIC ACID. Does HYDROCHLORIC sound like SULFURIC to you? Well, does it, Number 9?" Vexen, number 4, was not only short-tempered but also completely obsessed with rank. Watching him squirm around numbers 1 through 3 was actually pretty hilarious. Demyx and Axel, number 8, would place bets on how long it would take him to grovel.

"ANSWER ME." Demyx rolled his eyes, then eeped as a bottle of hydrochloric acid smashed against the wall next to his head. He quickly covered his face to protect his eyes from the broken glass. Sensible, but not terribly macho.

"Next time," Vexen snarled, "I won't spare your pretty little face." Demyx jumped. God, _pretty_? "Now get out of my sight, 9." Contrary to his order, Vexen swished out of the lab first, head held high, quitting the scene with flying colors.

Demyx groaned. This really was the worst punishment that Xemnas could have possibly come up with. Effective, too. If the idea was to trap him with Vexen until he was crazy enough to go on a murderous rampage, then boy, was it working. The dank lab was in the castle's lower levels, and reeked of rusty pipes and mold. He sniffed the air and gagged. How could Vexen stand it? Oh well. Demyx turned to go, then suddenly got an idea. Cracking a smile, he snapped both his fingers, and all of the pipes in Vexen's lab exploded.

* * *

The next morning, Demyx dragged himself out of bed, fearing retribution for his hasty waterworks show. Little did he know that what he was about to face was far, far worse.

Taped to his door was a note. An elaborate note titled 'HOW TO OBTAIN SULFURIC ACID,' subtitled 'TRY NOT TO SCREW UP THIS TIME.' The note included detailed and labeled diagrams of both a bottle of sulfuric acid and a mulleted stick-figure Demyx obtaining said sulfuric acid, as well as the chemical structure of sulfuric acid and a list of places where one might find sulfuric acid. It was by far the most condescendingly specific note ever to be given to anyone. Demyx growled, tore it down, and shoved it into his pocket. Seething, he stormed off towards nowhere in particular, finally ending up outside the castle's gates, down in the city. Angry as he was, he knew he'd have to get the acid today, or he would be in even more trouble for-

"Number 9?" Inside he startled, but outside, he kept his relative cool. Number 3 was bad, but not Number 1 Superior-level bad.

"_Demyx_," he corrected sulkily. Sure, it wasn't his real name, but why bother having a fake name if no one even uses it? He wasn't far enough gone from life to be satisfied as a number just yet.

"Number 9. Nice work on 4's lab." Demyx visibly flinched as Xaldin gave him a manly side-hug, both from discomfort at the intimate gesture and anticipation of the horrible punishment that was to rain forth upon him. "Took the whole night to clean it up. Six dusks died. God knows what was in those pipes. Superior said to watch out for rats." See, this right here was exactly why Demyx hated the low-number old school types. They were so removed from their emotions that everything got delivered in broken deadpan. Xaldin had just informed him that the combination of the groty pipe water and the contents of Vexen's lab had produced an environment so toxic, so incredibly noxious, that it had the power to kill the undead, and also that there may be a plague of mutant sewer rats o'er the land. In the same tone of voice that normal people would use to say something like 'Hey, the cat threw up on my shirt again.' Demyx stumbled as Xaldin took away his creepy embrace.

"4's pissed. Pretty funny. You'd better get that stuff quick, though. Oh, and 2 asked me to give you this." Xaldin drew out a small, folded piece of paper and handed it to Demyx. He opened it to see a note, that read simply, "BULLETS – II."

"Uh. Why'd you have to write it down? You could've just said 'hey, Xig needs some bullets'.."

"I thought you were requesting errands in writing now," Xaldin said tonelessly. A slow horror dawned on Demyx. No. They couldn't.

"Uh, no, but thanks, I guess." He left in a hurry, zapping himself back to his room. No, no, no, no no _no_!

The entire door was covered with notes. Demyx grabbed the most prominent, a scrawl from Axel reading 'A PACK OF CIGARETTES WITH A SIDE OF NO GUILT TRIPS ABOUT HOW I'M SHORTENING MY NOT-LIFE, PLEASE! KTHX' God, it was just that one time! And it was a reflex- as much as Demyx hated to admit it, his Other had been one of _those _people- he'd always been exhorting people to not smoke or drink soda and bike to work and shit like that. He had carried extra condoms in his wallet to make sure his _friends _would have them. Yes, Demyx's Other was a subject he kept carefully under wraps.

He reached for other notes. A list of books for the library from Zexion, Luxord needed more cards and poker chips, Roxas claimed to need a TV. Lexaeus wanted a package mailed- 'Am not sure how to mail live cat. Airholes sufficient?' This had to be some kind of sick joke. Just as he was tearing down Marluxia's request for a rare flowering plant from the Pridelands, Larxene appeared beside him.

"Oh. Too late now? I need some shampoo and hairspray," she drawled.

"For the love of God you can TELEPORT!" Demyx yelled, near-hysterical. "You can TELEPORT and you're INVINCIBLE! Just portal into someone's house, beat them up and take their shampoo! Heck, you can kill them if you want!" Larxene was unfazed by Demyx's untoward display of emotion.

"Whatever, loser," she muttered, and pegged her note to Demyx's reddening forehead. Ignoring his shrieks of protest, she turned and disappeared. He howled with rage and pounded his fist into the wall. Just above his knuckles, now incredibly sore, was one final note.

'If any member is less than satisfied with their products and your work, you will answer to me personally. – I' Well, great. Icing on a shit sandwich. Demyx pulled on his cloak, tucked all of the notes in his pockets, summoned a portal, and was on his way.

* * *

Demyx stormed into the library, heavily laden with at least a dozen mothy textbooks written in languages that he couldn't read. He walked with a slight limp, evidence of an injury he'd received in the Pridelands when Marluxia's plant had tried to eat him. 'You have to beat it at checkers first,' Marluxia said. Yeah, whatever. He'd managed the cat by putting fake postage all over the box and then opening a portal and chucking it at the recipient- hopefully the cat was ok. Other than that, everything was more or less smooth sailing, except that Axel's favorite brand of cigarettes had so much nicotine in them that they'd recently been made illegal, so Demyx had had to steal them from someone, and that soccer mom had put up a hell of a fight.

"I brought you your books," Demyx said, with more than a little snarl in his voice. The library, Zexion's library, was the very last stop on his journey to hell. The short, purple-haired Nobody was already hidden behind half a rainforest of musty bound paper. A few more tomes won't hurt, right? Demyx dropped his pile on the very top. For an instant, they teetered there uncertainly, like a plump toddler about it to take its very first step on two feet. Actually, it was more like a treed cougar about to pounce. No sooner had Demyx taken his hands away, than the entire stack and everything underneath it roared into motion, slid off of the table like a very dusty avalanche, and effectively pinned him to the ground. The books were quite heavy. Maybe if he just stayed lying there, someone would eventually take pity and murder him.

"Ah, Number 9?"

"Kill me. Just kill me. Now, please."

"I was going to thank you."

"Ok. You're welcome. Now please, just put me out of my misery."

"No. And, I need my books back now."

"I'd help you out, but I can't move." Demyx was telling the truth. He wiggled his toes to prove it.

"Fine." Zexion began moving the books one by one, and with great difficulty. Had he access to his limbs, Demyx would have smacked him, or kicked him, or something. He'd been running all over the universe all morning, and this jerk was breaking a sweat just from lifting a few hardbacks onto a table? Come _on._

"Why do you need so many books, anyway?"

"For magic," Zexion said haughtily. Demyx rolled his eyes. He wished that Axel was there to say something funny and push his nose up- you know, in the universal 'snob' original apprentices, stupid Xemnas, stupid day. "There, your legs should be free. Now clean this up." Demyx struggled out from under the book-blanket, accidentally tearing up a few particularly decrepit volumes. Hopefully Zexion wouldn't notice.

"All done."

"You destroyed my P'namth Burah," Zexion said flatly. Sounded like gibberish to Demyx. Was P-Man Booyah his cat's name or something? Because if that cat Lexaeus wanted mailed actually belonged to Zexion, Demyx was in for a load of hurt. And come on, he hadn't _destroyed _it. Just shook it up a little.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Zexion gestured wordlessly at the pile of book-debris at Demyx's feet. "Oh, that."

"Yes. I will need a replacement."

"Get it yourself. I'm done." Demyx brushed some dust off of his coat sleeves, realizing with a pang of almost-guilt that it too was probably part of one of Zexion's beloved volumes, and that maybe he should have given it a proper burial or something. Oh, God. Five minutes in a library and he's already thinking about book funerals. Maybe this was why no one ever came in here.

"You wouldn't want me to give our Superior a less-than-satisfactory review of your job performance, now would you?" Zexion deadpanned. Again with the creepy lack of inflection! He might as well have threatened to tear Demyx's not-heart out, set it on fire, and feed it to Saïx.

"You wouldn't dare." Zexion looked at him expectantly. "This is low, Zexion, even for you."

"May I remind you that I outrank you in this Organization?"

"Yes, please." Zexion actually missed a beat. Ha! Demyx 1, Zexion 0. "So, where do I find your Pilgrim Bra?"

"P'namth Burah. Only one other copy exists in the entire universe, and it is guarded safely deep within a castle in a faraway kingdom, accessible only to the Royal Family." He was clearly going for a suspenseful, threatening effect, but at this time and on this day, Demyx was having none of it.

"Ok. What world?"

"Disney Castle." Demyx stared at Zexion for a long moment. _Are you serious? _he asked with his eyes. _Really, Zexion? Really?_

"… I'll be right back."

"No! Demyx, you cannot simply-" But it was too late. Demyx had already opened a portal, and nonchalantly stepped in, emerging gloriously inside the Disney Castle library. Ugh, books everywhere- where was he supposed to start? He found himself distracted by the odd, wavy shelves, wondering how much it cost to have those designed, built, and installed.

"Oh no!" Demyx turned casually and was face to face with a mouse in a dress. He yelped and jumped back, terrified by the hideous accident of nature. Fortunately, as they usually tell you in wildlife books, the mouse seemed to be more afraid of him than he was of her? It? "Oh noooo!"

"Hello, ma'am," he said charmingly, regaining his cool. "I'm new to this library, so I'm not really sure how the organizational system works- I'm looking for the 'old and stanky' section. Do you think they're filed under O or S?"

"Oh noooooooooo!" The mouse-in-a-dress ran out of the room. Well, that was odd. Demyx shrugged and followed his nose to the old and stanky section. All of the books looked the same. He supposed he must be looking for the oldest and stankiest. After some poking around (with his hands covered by his sleeves, of course- no way was he going to allow these things to come into contact with bare skin, immortal though he may be), he found a book that looked comparable to the one he'd demolished, and gently lifted it off the shelf. He summoned a portal, and in seconds he was back where he'd come from.

"Hi! Did you miss me?" Demyx triumphantly dropped the Puppy Blag onto the table, pretending not to notice when a corner fell off and disintegrated. He' d just tell Zexion he found it like that. Zexion was torn out of his apparent deep thought, and stared at Demyx as if he were seeing a ghost.

"… Demyx," he said, eyes wide.

"Zexion," Demyx said coolly. "I got your Pants Ambulance, so now you have no reason to complain about me."

"… I thought you were dead," Zexion whispered. "I just prepared an entire speech explaining to the Superior why you died on my assignment."

"Well, I _finished _your assignment, so…. Wait, what?" He thought Demyx had _died? _Demyx was more than a little insulted. They thought he was such a wuss that a brightly-colored castle with funky shelves would _kill _him? "What, may I ask, is that supposed to mean?"

"Don't you _see_ what this means? You went to Disney Castle and lived!" Zexion's eyes widened, and he clasped his hands together, as if Demyx was some kind of famous rock star, or had just cured AIDS. In other words, exaggerating the impressiveness of his accomplishment just a wee bit, and Demyx did not appreciate the sarcasm at all.

"Oh, just go and die. You have what you wanted. No need to be an ass about it. My day sucks enough already."

"Tell me everything that happened!" With slow and sickening horror, it dawned on Demyx that Zexion was _actually serious._ He scratched his head, tried to come up with a way to describe his errand that would sound exciting, and came up very, very short.

"Um, I just opened a portal, walked into the library, and grabbed your book. All I saw was a crazy mouse in a dress who ran away screaming."

"You faced Queen Minnie and escaped with your life?" Zexion's face was the picture of what could only be described as awe. Nobodies weren't supposed to feel awe. And the crazy dress-mouse was supposed to make his not-exploit into something dangerous and thrilling? Demyx was getting a little creeped out, now. Well, he supposed he wasn't supposed to feel creeped out, either. Man, life was complicated.

"Apparently?" was all he could come up with to say.

"Wow. Just… amazing, Number 9."

"Are you 100% sure that you have the right guy, here?"

"Amazing." Zexion shook his head in disbelief. Demyx took that as his cue to leave, and leave quickly. He summoned a portal and hurried back to his room. At least now he didn't have to worry about anyone giving him negative reviews, and the Superior would finally be off his back. Maybe he wouldn't even have to work with Vexen anymore. That would be pretty awesome. He made a mental note to ask about it in the morning, and quickly fell asleep.

* * *

Demyx awoke the next day to one final note on his door.

_IX-_

_Incredible work, sneaking into Disney Castle to steal that book for Zexion! I had no idea that your powers of stealth were so developed. As soon as we have the time, I would like you to head an Organization seminar on breaking and entering. X is pathetic, but I don't want to draw attention to him specifically, so we might as well involve the whole group. I hear that you also battled with Queen Minnie and managed to survive. To be honest, I didn't believe you had it in you, IX. It's unprecedented, but there may be a promotion in the works- some of the lower numbers are getting back into their alcohol habit, and it may be easier just to purge them than to pay for group therapy again. _

_I apologize, I digress. We have another problem. XIII has wandered off again, something about swamp monsters, and I need you to go find him, since most of the Organization is busy preparing to leave for Castle Oblivion. He's been a little spacey lately, so if the subject fails to respond, use aggression to liberate his true disposition. In fact, just use this note as extended permission to use force on all of your missions with XIII in the future. I'm sure he'll disappear again. It's what he does._

_Again, congratulations on your accomplishment. You are the pride of Organization XIII._

_- I_

And so, poor Demyx was left wondering, with great distress, if his boss had managed to confuse him with someone else. C'est la vie, Demyx. C'est la vie.

* * *

If anyone has any other silly one-shot writing prompts, feel free to leave them in reviews. I will only be inspired by the SILLIEST of prompts, though, mind you. :)


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